


To Catch a Panther

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Series: Sexual Frustration: A Story, As Told By Two Secret Agents [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Plot, F/M, Fluff, Only One Bed, Some Plot, Team as Family, trope, you guys have to be sick of me by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Screaming children, sleep deprivation, a dangerous extremist, some unknown gunmen, and only one bed. All in a day's work for our favorite secret agents.





	To Catch a Panther

Ilsa was half-asleep by the time they left the airport and climbed into the back of a cab, and she could tell Ethan wasn’t far behind her. She heard him give the cab driver their hotel’s address and then lean back into the seat with a heavy sigh. Their thirteen-hour flight, on top of the twenty-seven hours they’d already been on their feet before actually getting on the plane, was finally catching up to them.

Luther, Brandt, and Benji had cleared customs and baggage claim faster than they had, and had already reached their hotel, at least according to Benji’s quick text five minutes ago.

They were probably already getting into their beds, Ilsa thought, feeling an irrational surge of jealousy at the prospect.

The cab lurched into motion and Ilsa let her head fall back against the headrest, not even trying to resist the pull. “When people say they want a job where they get to travel a lot,” she mumbled, “what are they _thinking_?”

Beside her, Ethan huffed a laugh.

“Because _this_? Is not fun,” she concluded, eyes drooping shut.

A second later, they shot open again, when their cab came to a sudden halt, and Ilsa blinked, her brain taking two seconds longer than she’d have liked to catch up. Glancing out the window, she noted that they had already reached their hotel. She must have fallen asleep, she noted, a bit sheepishly, and turned her head in Ethan’s direction, only to find him already looking at her, a soft smile on his face.

“We’re here,” he stated, quite unnecessarily.

“I noticed,” she said, drolly. “Sorry I kind of fell asleep on you.”

He shook his head. “No need to apologize. Let’s just get checked in asap and fall into bed. I can’t tell you how much I long for a bed right now.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you suggest a better plan.” Reaching for the door handle, she pushed the door open and climbed out to retrieve her luggage from the cabby, who was currently getting their stuff from the trunk.

“Ich wünsche Ihnen einen schönen Abend!” The cabby wished them cheerily, apparently oblivious to their state of exhaustion.  

She wished him a nice evening as well, and, with a tired smile resting on her lips, she pressed their fare and a tip into his hand.

Grabbing their luggage, they made their way through the entrance and towards the reception.

The young woman behind the desk perked up when she spotted them, a friendly smile appearing on her face. “Guten Abend! Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?”

Ethan told her they had a reservation for a double room and gave her the name it was booked under - an alias, of course.

She typed away on her keyboard for a few moments, looking up their reservation, before the friendly smile turned into a regretful one.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Palmer. It seems there was a mix up with your reservation.”

Internally, Ilsa groaned and closed her eyes in despair for a second. All she wanted was a bed, how hard could it be?

“Well, do you have any other rooms still available?” Ethan asked, with more patience than she could currently muster.

“We still have a comfort room with a queen size bed available, if that would be all right with you.”

Glancing at Ilsa, he raised a questioning eyebrow and she nodded tiredly. She’d sleep in the bathtub if she had to. Turning back to the receptionist, he told her, “We’ll take it.”

Ten minutes later, the door to their room clicked shut behind them and they took in the space. One queen sized bed. A small-ish table with a chair opposite the bed, and a tiny couch positioned underneath the window.

Ethan sighed and made his way to the couch, dropping his bag beside it. “I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed.”

Ilsa snorted. “As if you’ll get any sleep on that minuscule thing. You’ll probably just end up putting your back out. Don’t even try, Ethan. The bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Ethan raised a faux-offended eyebrow at her. “I know I’m not twenty anymore, you don’t have to rub it in.”

Kicking off her shoes and opening the buttons on her blouse, she shot a suggestive look at him. “I’d have no use for you at twenty, anyway.”

“Is that so,” he asked, sitting on the couch to untie his shoes as well.

“Young men are mostly overrated. Experience is so much more satisfying.”

Shrugging off her shirt and depositing it over the back of the chair, she shimmied off her pants next, not at all self-conscious about standing before him in her underwear. It wasn’t like they had never seen each other in a state of undress before. Although at the time, she’d just brought him back from the dead and they both had other things on their minds.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I’ve had to deal with men in their twenties plenty of times. They’re all about stamina, but there’s no... _finesse_ . It’s no use if you can press the button repeatedly, but don’t know _how_ to press it.”

“You’re right, of course. A certain finesse at pressing buttons is indispensable.”

Rummaging in her travel bag for a shirt to wear to bed, she continued, “They usually just leave me all sweaty and high-strung and I end up having to take care of it myself.”

“I imagine that’s quite frustrating.” He agreed, setting his own shirt down on top of hers. His belt and pants were deposited over the chair’s arm.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Twisting her bra open, back turned to him, she shrugged out of the straps. Dropping it onto her bag, not really caring where it landed, she pulled the grey t-shirt she’d chosen, over her head.

Finally turning around to face him, she took a long look at him, dressed in boxers and a simple white t-shirt.

“They’re all green behind the ears and try to prove themselves, but then the moment comes where you have to defuse a bomb, or you have to set _off_ a bomb and all of a sudden they don’t know how to press the button or flip the switch,” she concluded, lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

He chuckled heartily and went to turn down the covers of the bed. “Knowing how to flip the switch is important, no matter the situation.”

“Very true,” she said, climbing into bed beside him. “I’ve also found that usually, women have a lot more finesse in that regard.”

He turned on his side to face her. “Are we still talking about bombs?”

She smirked at him. “What do you think?”

He groaned. “Evil woman. I was actually planning on getting a good night’s sleep tonight. You might have just ruined that plan.”

She laughed, the sound raspy from lack of sleep. “Poor baby.” Mirroring his position, she smiled at him wickedly. “I don’t think I’ll have any problems falling asleep tonight.”

“No need to brag.”

“But I do it so well.”

They smiled at each other goofily, exhaustion once again setting in.

She watched as Ethan’s smile softened and his left hand reached over to her, gently pushing a wayward strand of hair off her forehead and hooking it behind her ear. The slight caress left a delicious tingly feeling on her skin.

Her own smile softened at his gesture. “Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Ilsa.”

A few moments later, Ilsa drifted off to sleep, a warm, fuzzy feeling residing in her chest.

 

*

 

There was a pounding in her head, making Ilsa groan and squeeze her eyes shut even more tightly. Snuggling back against the warmth at her back, she tried hard to ignore it and go back to sleep. She could swear she had fallen asleep only a few minutes ago.

The warmth at her back moved and an arm around her middle tightened. A sigh was breathed against her neck.

Her mind screeched to a halt as the situation registered in her jet-lagged brain. There was that pounding again, and this time she could pinpoint it as coming from the door.

Groaning again, she carefully entwined Ethan’s arm from around her middle, ignoring his sigh of protest. It was a testament to how tired he was that he barely even flinched.

Pushing her hair out of her face, and blinking blearily to get rid of the sleep in her eyes, she grabbed her gun from her bag on her way to the door. Peering through the peephole, she pressed her forehead against the cool wood with a sigh. Unlocking the door for the rest of the team standing in the corridor outside, she opened it a crack. “Well, if that isn’t an unwelcome sight, this early in the morning.”

“Uhm. It’s good to see you, too. Are we interrupting anything?” Benji asked, looking at her messy hair and blurry eyes questioningly.

“A good night’s sleep, yes.”

“It’s 9.13 am.”

“Is it.”

“Yup. Can you let us in?”

“If I must.” Opening the door wide enough for them to slip into the room, she glanced over her shoulder to see Ethan sitting up in bed, arms resting on his crossed legs. She had to suppress a grin at his adorable bedhead.

“Well, well, well,” Luther mused, taking in the single bed and their half-dressed appearance, “looks like somebody had a good night.”

Ethan gave his friend a ‘ _Don’t even_ ’ look, its effect kind of ruined, however, as a yawn took over his face.

“Look at that,” Luther laughed, “he’s only human, after all.”

“At least you guys could sleep on the plane,” Ethan shot back. “You didn’t have to deal with a kicking and screaming child a row behind you, unlike we did.”

“Yes,” Brandt agreed smugly, “our seats in first-class were quite excellent. I didn’t even hear the screaming kid way back in Economy.”

Ilsa glared at him as she made her way past him to the bathroom. She would need a shower before she was ready to deal the rest of her team.

Ten minutes later, as she stepped back out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed for the day, she found the guys sitting in every available space. Luther had claimed the couch for himself, Brandt the chair and Benji was reclined on the floor, back against the bed, laptop resting on his outstretched legs. Ethan hadn’t moved from his position on the bed, except to stack a couple of pillows against the headboard behind his back.

“Bath is all yours,” she told Ethan, as four pairs of eyes turned to look at her.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling at her. He finally got out of bed and grabbed fresh clothes from his bag on his way to the shower. He stepped past her, shoulders brushing in the tight space separating the bed from the bathroom.

There was that tingly feeling again, but this time, Ilsa ignored it resolutely. “So, did you come up with a plan, yet?”

“What, you mean Ethan didn’t fill you in, during pillow talk?”

“ _Luther!_ ” Ethan’s admonishing voice filtered through the bathroom door.

Ilsa just rolled her eyes at her friend’s teasing. “We were busy with other things last night. Mainly catching up on sleep.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed to Benji’s left, she added, “Now, can anyone tell me the plan, or do we wait for Ethan to come back?”

Apparently, Brandt took pity on her. “Our contact said Zimmerman is supposed to meet with the Panther at 11 pm tonight at this location.” He pointed to a spot on the map he had spread out on the table beside him. “Our job is it to shadow Zimmerman from the time he leaves his hotel, and follow him to the meeting. We’ll split into two teams. Benji, Luther, and I will take the van, which is gonna be parked around the corner from the hotel and follow him from there. You and Ethan will shadow him on foot. If he notices you, you can just play a couple being disgustingly in love.” He coughed and mumbled under his breath, “Not that that’s gonna be too hard for you.”

The guys cackled at the joke like a bunch of 10-year-olds.

Ilsa just glowered at Brandt until he hurried on with his explanation. “We’ll stay in contact via comms, as usual. Since the meeting is taking place in a park, we’ll position the van across the only entrance and exit point. You will follow him into the park and keep an eye on him. Our main objective is to take the Panther into custody. It’d be a nice added bonus if we’d get Zimmerman as well. To that effect, Luther has prepared some tranqs in order to subdue. We’ll come get you and the marks as soon as you’re clear. Nice and easy.”

“Yeah, if everything runs smoothly, it’s a simple subdue and capture mission,” Benji agreed.

“When have you ever found a mission to run smoothly?” Ilsa asked, and they all blinked at her.

“She’s got a point,” Luther grumbled.

“Even if it doesn’t run smoothly, we’ll still manage anyway. We always do.” Ilsa wasn’t sure if Brandt was trying to convince them or himself.

 

*

 

Ilsa felt like yelling “I told you so!” as the bullets began to fly, whizzing by her head way too close for comfort. Ducking behind a tree, she thought it had all gone reasonably well - until it hadn’t.

The guys had followed Zimmerman in the van, keeping an appropriate distance, all the way to the park. Ethan and herself had kept half a block of distance between them and the subject, as well, playing at being “disgustingly in love”, as Brandt had put it. Arm in arm, they had giggled and laughed and stopped from time to time to share the occasional kiss, whenever Zimmerman had looked behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Once, they had passed him on the sidewalk when he had come to a full stop, outwardly not paying him any mind, eyes only for each other. A block later, they had stopped, apparently locked in a passionate embrace, waiting for him to catch back up again.

It had been nice, Ilsa had to admit, even if just to herself. Ethan was a great kisser.

When they had stepped into the park a minute after their mark, they had chosen a bench a distance away from where Zimmerman had stopped. They had noticed him getting increasingly anxious, but had put it down to him just being nervous about the impending meeting.

That had been two minutes before a group of five people, dressed in black, had burst through the trees and shrubbery surrounding the clearing, and the bullets had started flying.

“How the hell did this happen!” She heard Ethan yell into his comm, hiding behind a tree of his own, three meters to her right, gun drawn, trying to return fire without actually wasting his bullets.

“I don’t know! We don’t even know who these guys are!” Brandt yelled back, his voice slightly distorted through the comm.

“This job is going marvelously!” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“We know, Ethan!” That was Benji. She had lost sight of him a few moments after he and Brandt had stormed into the clearing to provide them with backup.

Peering around the tree again, she caught a glimpse of who had to be the Panther, trying to make an escape through the bushes and over a wall.

“I can see the Panther! I’m going after him!” she announced to the others, and sprinted after him without waiting for a reply, zig-zagging behind trees for cover. Passing by a shooter, who looked at her in surprise, she took him out with a well-placed bullet to the chest.

“Ilsa, wait! Don’t go after him alone!” Ethan yelled into her ear and she could hear Brandt chime in a second later, “As if she’ll listen to you once she’s got a scent in her nose.”

“Damn it!” Ethan cursed, resigned.

Meanwhile, she was catching up on the Panther, who was having trouble climbing over the brick wall that separated the park from his alleged freedom. Seemed like he didn’t have much in common with his namesake, Ilsa mused.

As if feeling her approach, he looked over his shoulder and she could see his eyes widen in surprise. He tried to hurry up with his climb but wasn’t nearly fast enough. With a well-timed jump, she grabbed a hold of his jacket and pulled him back down to the ground. He flailed and tried to free his gun from his belt with one hand, while the other arm threw a messy swing at her. Easily dodging it, she retaliated with a powerful punch to his solar plexus that sent him stumbling to the ground, wheezing for breath. Kicking the gun out of his hand, she wasted no time in pulling one of her own guns, the tranquilizer, and placed a round in his neck. A second later, he slumped against the ground, passed out cold.

“Got him,” she stated and proceeded to tie their mark up, ensuring he couldn’t flee.

“So the cat’s in the bag?” Benji joked, sounding relieved, and the others groaned at his attempt at humor.

 

*

 

Even though Zimmerman had managed to escape, and they had never found out who the gunmen had been - they had vanished as quickly as they had appeared, taking their dead with them without leaving a trace - they had managed to fulfill their main objective.

Many questions regarding those two players remained unanswered, which bugged Ilsa immensely, but at least there was one less extremist out in the word, ready to wreak chaos, as he had planned to do.

The Panther, also known as Lukas Steiner, a chemist with a really unhealthy worldview, had been secured and dropped off with their contacts at the CIA. Erica Sloan had sent her regards, promising to share any information she would get from him with her “friends at the IMF”.

So far, she had always made good on her promises.

“I don’t know whether to hate or love it when you do that,” Ethan said, as she once again slipped into bed beside him.

“When I do what?” she asked, pulling the blanket over her naked legs to ward off the slight chill in the room. Late October in Frankfurt, Germany, tended to be on the colder side.

“Run off alone, without one of us to give you backup,” he explained, carding a tired hand through his hair, ruffling it in the process. “I love that you’re independent and badass and usually have no need for any of us to have your back in the first place, but…” he sighed deeply and Ilsa’s breath caught at how bone-weary he seemed in this moment. “I care, okay?” He almost snapped at her, eyes locking on hers. “I care about you more than I should and it’s always tying my stomach into knots watching you run off alone, knowing that you won’t let me guard your back!”

Ilsa blinked and swallowed hard, surprised by his outburst. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, before meeting his fiery eyes with her own. “I’ve been on my own for more years than I care to remember. You know that.” He started to protest, but she silenced him with a look, silently asking him to let her finish. “I just have to get used to being part of a team again, Ethan. I know that you want to protect your team at all costs. That’s what makes you such a great leader. I also know that I haven’t always been the best team player when it comes to adhering to your orders. It’s always worked out fine so far, but I know that one day, my luck and _finesse,_ ” he chuckled quietly at her callback to their last conversation in this same bed, “might not be enough to keep me safe. I guess what I am trying to say is...I’m sorry, and I’ll try to be slightly less of a pain in the ass for you and your stomach.”

“Me and my stomach would appreciate it,” he joked, her apology accepted. Searching her eyes for a long moment, he slowly reached out to pull her against him and into a hug. She went willingly, enclosing her own arms around him. Together, they scooted down the bed, until they were reclined against the pillows comfortably, her head nestled on his chest beneath his chin.

His hand was busy stroking a path up and down her arm gently, making goosebumps erupt on her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. Her fingers, as well, seemed to have a mind of their own and were tracing absentminded patterns on his chest.

“Ethan,” she mumbled, already half-asleep again, in the comfort and safety of his arms.

“Hm?”

“I care about you, too. A lot,” she confessed. His arm around her involuntarily pulled her tighter against him.

“Good. Otherwise, it would have been awkward how much I enjoyed kissing you earlier.”

She huffed a soft laugh against his neck, relishing in the shiver she could feel travel through him in response.

“Maybe next time we could do that without the guys babbling away in our ears and a mark watching our every move,” she suggested.

“Next time?”

“Mhmm. After we’ve caught up on sleep.”

The soft caress of his lips across her forehead was the last thing she remembered before drifting off to a restful sleep.

 

_~fin_

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have been (very politely...) asked by my beta reader and Donut-Wife (aka Diantos on tumblr), to add some smut to this. Because how can you not, when there's only one bed to be had, right? Apparently, that's a must-have. Alas, I declined....with a 'maybe' thrown in, if there was enough demand for a second chapter.
> 
> So, I guess it's up to you guys. Let me know what you think. ;)


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